


outside the world seems a violent place

by brosura



Series: uncurling lifelines [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Luna-centric, Minor Character Death, everyone is a lil babby in this fic, mentions of Ravus/the Fleurets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-10-15 20:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10556948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brosura/pseuds/brosura
Summary: Lunafreya escapes Tenebrae with Noctis and King Regis on the day Niflheim attacks. Now a refugee in Insomnia, she adjusts, she learns, she grows.She goes through the process of grieving.





	1. all around you the buildings sway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so i get that luna letting go of regis’ hand when tenebrae fell was supposed to give us insight on how self-sacrificing and duty-bound her character was, but can u imagine how much [happier her childhood would be](http://brosura.tumblr.com/post/158903202241/ffxv-au-where-king-regis-maxed-out-his) if regis just for some reason had stronger hand-holding skills and she got to grow up in lucis with a support system? well, u don’t have to imagine anymore b/c here i am, self-indulgent as usual, with a multichapter StrongHandsRadDad!Regis and (Relatively)HappyChildhood!Luna fic for anyone else like me, who sees pics of lunafreya nox fleuret and thinks “i just wanted her to be happy”
> 
> all titles for all parts and chapters of this fic will be from florence and the machine's "various storms & saints" which has that somber but hopeful vibe i'm aimin' for in this fic
> 
> anyway, that's all for now! hope u enjoy!

Luna’s world falls apart in one day.

It doesn’t sink in until she’s collapsed in a stolen airship beside the Lucian king and his son, watching her home burning in the low light of dusk. She can’t hear the screams from this far.

Noctis has fallen asleep, the exhaustion creeping in on him fast after they were a safe distance from the burning ruins of Fenestala Manor. King Regis holds him close as he mourns, tears coming quickly once the adrenaline fades. He smells like smoke. Blood seeps lazily through his clothing.

“I’m sorry, Lunafreya,” he sobs, clutching Noctis close. “I couldn’t- I’m _sorry.”_

Luna doesn’t know the words to say to comfort him when she is so lost herself, so she only takes a shaking hand in both of her own.

She wants so badly to cry as well. But she feels like she’s drowning, water rushing past her ears, sinking lower and lower until she can’t see the surface anymore.

The tears don’t come.

* * *

The tears come after the fact, nearly a week after, when she’s alone and settled for bed in her new room in the Citadel.

Even after the past few days, it’s still disorienting to tear herself from another nightmare _(Ravus crying, the distant sound of a blade cutting through bone and flesh, fire licking at her skin and she can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t)_ and find herself in a place so different from home.

Fenestala Manor was always quiet at night. It was intended to be a religious sanctuary for the Oracle and her followers, after all, where the lights were only just bright enough to keep the daemons at bay.

But even here in the Citadel, Insomnia glitters like a jewel. The city lives up to its name, strange and bright even in the darkness of the night. She knows in a moment it’ll be more comforting to her to be unable to sleep in a place that doesn’t seem to sleep itself, but right now it’s yet another jarring reminder that she is so very far from home.

The first sob tears out of her before she even realizes she’s crying. Then something snaps in her at the sound and she can’t _stop._ Her wailing sounds distant to her own ears, but she can tell she’s all but screaming in the quiet of the night. It’s cathartic to let it all out, though, even if it’s only in short bursts that she feels better between the overwhelming feeling of grief.

A part of her, a foolish part of her, hopes that everything that had happened was just a bad dream. That if she kept up crying loud enough, her mother or Ravus would hear, would crack open the door, draw her into their arms and she could cry herself back to sleep nestled in the familiar safety of their presence.

But they’re dead and gone, and it’s King Regis that opens the door.

“Lunafreya?” he says, tentatively, as tentative as the soft knocks that he’d used to signal his arrival.

She recognizes that he’s asking for permission to come in, but she can’t talk yet, so she just nods and does her best to stifle the hiccupping sobs. He’s got a thoughtful, guilty expression on as he settles on the edge of the bed.

“Nightmares?” Luna nods again. King Regis sighs, looking far older than he had when she’d met  him less than two weeks ago. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that this is the _first_ time you were awoken by the horrors you have witnessed. My actions, intentional or not, have brought you great suffering. I am _truly_ sorry, Lunafreya.”

Luna shakes her head, reaches out and takes his hand in hers just like she had on the airship the day she lost everything. “Not your fault,” she says, weakly, voice shaking from her time spent crying.

“A selfish old man like me doesn’t deserve your kindness,” he breathes around a sad laugh. She doesn’t know what to say to that, so she squeezes his hand a bit harder. It is a warm and unexpected comfort when he cups one of her small hands in both of his own. “Now, let’s see if I can help you find rest again. I’ve found that a bit of distraction brings Noctis comfort when he has nightmares of his own. Would you like to see if a story helps?”

Luna nods. She’s certain that she wants King Regis stay, at least. However selfish it is - she knows Noctis needs his father just as much - she doesn’t want to be alone, not now, not after everything.

“I suppose it’d be foolish to speak to you of the Astrals, you likely know so much more than I do,” he laughs, still somber but less outright sad, and the weight on Luna’s chest lightens ever so slightly. “Why not a story about a boy I knew once? He was as feisty as he was talented, and we’d often joke that he would very well try to fight an Astral, if given the opportunity.”

Luna tilts her head, curiosity piqued even though something heavy still sits in her gut. King Regis smiles, settles her back against her pillows and pulls the blanket up to her chin before sitting down in a chair next to her to begin.

“He’s a well-respected man now, but not so long ago he was a precocious boy, not much older than yourself, dreaming of a title as grand as ‘the Immortal’...”

* * *

A week later and her nights have been no more restful, but she has learned to hide her wounds better.

Regis is kind and accommodating, but he also grows increasingly weary as the days go on. His own son still struggles with nightmares himself, after all, and Noctis’ condition has started worsening again as the wound from the daemon attack that her mother hadn’t been able to treat festers and grows.

Even still, Regis is kind enough to give her this time to grieve, to never expect her to act as the Oracle even though it’s the responsibility of her bloodline, to never pressure her to take up her mother’s role even though it can’t be easy watching his own son waste away.

So she can’t bear to trouble him any more than she already has.

She buries herself deep in the thick blankets after yet another nightmare and sobs as quietly as she can through the mix of homesickness and dizzying loss. The heat is stifling under the blankets, but it’s better than knowing she’s bothering King Regis, who is tired and guilt-ridden as if he were personally responsible for every nightmare.

Either way, it’s noticeable when the temperature under the blankets changes from hot to cold in a way that should be impossible.

“The girl fears becoming a burden.” A familiar, cool voice rings throughout the room. Luna sits up with a gasp to see Gentiana seated at the edge of the bed. It’s almost as if she’s floating though, light and surreal. The blankets don’t bunch up where she’s settled and Luna didn’t feel her sit down. Her expression is serene, but her soft smile to Luna is almost sad. “She does not remember the hope she carries with her.”

“Gentiana,” Luna whispers, rubbing the tears from her eyes, and crawls from under the blankets towards her mother’s messenger.

She squirms her way under Gentiana’s arm. Gentiana feels more real this way: her body is cold but solid, and it’s a familiar comfort as Luna settles into her side and breathes in the scent of freezing air. A cool hand finds its way to Luna’s hair, stroking through the strands.  

“You thought yourself alone,” Gentiana finally says. “The Oracle is never _truly_ alone, child.”

“But I’m not the Oracle,” Luna insists, voice breaking on a sob. “Mother is, mother is-”

“She is gone, yes. I have seen her loss avenged.” Gentiana’s tone is neutral, but for a moment Luna feels just how cold she is, how ageless and vast. Then the hand returns to her hair, gentle and so very familiar. “Regardless, her duty falls to you now, as it was always meant to.”

“I can’t,” is all Luna can think to say. She had known this day would come since childhood, had been so excited when her mother had first told her of her duty as Oracle. She had looked forward to the day she would meet the chosen King she would guide, but now all she can think of is the way her mother had sounded as the fires burned around them. “I _can’t._ I’m... afraid.”

“You are,” Gentiana agrees easily, matter-of-factly. “Fear and sorrow hold tight to the girl’s heart. They make her doubt the place of the Oracle. They make her doubt _her_ place as the Oracle. Do not mistake this pain for weakness. Do not let this doubt take root and fester. You carry within you a strength and power you cannot understand. The prayers of the Oracles who came before and the hopes of all those lost in Tenebrae go with _you_ now.”

It’s almost enough to choke her at first, to make her feel like she’s drowning all over again. _Those lost in Tenebrae._ Ravus, her mother, all her friends and family. She really _was_ all that was left, she had their legacy to carry on all alone. They _needed_ her to.

They needed her.

Her head breaks above the water. She wipes her tears.

“I understand,” she says, voice still shaky after having cried for so long. “I understand. But I’m still afraid. I’m still-”

“Hush, child,” Gentiana whispers, and Luna realizes that she’s moved at some point, that she’s back where she started under the blankets. Gentiana pulls them up under her chin. “This is not something that can be taken on overnight. Your duty brought you comfort once, allow it to do so again. Now, rest and know that you need only call and I shall be there.”

Sleep comes quickly. When she wakes, she can’t tell if she’d only replaced a nightmare with a dream, the memory of Gentiana is so vivid and otherworldly that it’s difficult to say if it was real or not.

Her blankets are cool to the touch.

* * *

Gentiana hasn’t visited her since that night, but Luna can almost feel her, a presence just at the edge of her awareness, close enough to touch if she reaches for her. She’s not sure if she’s ready to yet.

The nightmares are still vivid, but it’s easier to place them as nightmares as her familiarity with the Citadel grows. She’ll hear her mother’s voice or the scream of one of her nannies, see the hills of Fenestala Manor aflame and she’ll think _this isn’t real, this isn’t now_ , and wake up with a hollow feeling in her gut, but without a single tear shed.

Tonight is different.

Tonight the horror is vivid and too familiar. Insomnia glows with an eerie, flickering red light outside her window. Ashes scatter across her vision and she can hear King Regis screaming his son’s name amidst the crackle of gunfire. Her breath comes in gasps as a man in full armor drops before her, shattering the ground on impact like a meteor.

She can’t move, can’t do anything as he walks to her slowly, grabs her by the neck and lifts her high in the air. She’s choking, struggling against the grasp, but he’s too strong.

“You couldn’t save them,” comes the deep, distorted voice. In his other hand, he lifts a large sword. It looks like the King’s. “They protected you, and you couldn’t save any of them. Why pray to the Astrals at all? They can’t even save _you alone.”_

She wakes up screaming as the blade sinks into her chest.

“Lunafreya!” King Regis all but shouts, stumbling into her room with a surprised and broken expression on his face.

She doesn’t hesitate, pulls herself from her bed and rushes to him immediately. He receives her embrace with a quiet sound of surprise, stumbling back a little with the force of it. She knows she should feel ashamed, knows he’s injured, but she can’t bring herself to care. She only wants to surround herself with a reminder that he’s still _there,_ that what had come to pass in her dream was imagined only. The King is warm and alive as he lifts Luna off the ground gently to cradle her against his chest. She sobs into his shoulder and takes in the increasingly familiar smell of faint metal. Once she’s confident that he’s very real, she hazards a glance out the window.

Insomnia glitters in shades of white and yellow, strange and familiar and absent of that sickly red glow. For some reason, it makes her sob harder. _Was this a future that would come to pass? Will she continue to lose everything, continue to fail to protect the things that mattered to her? Will she ever have a home again?_

Regis holds her through all of this, murmurs soft words of comfort that turn to an almost prayer of _I’m here, Lunafreya, I’m here I’m here I’m here._ His hands tremble slightly where they hold her, but they keep her grounded nonetheless.

“Is Noctis alright?” she says, when she’s mostly cried herself out. She’s nearly separated herself from that nightmare world, but the faintest fear lingers.

“He is.” Regis sounds hesitant and the panic rises before she can control it. “He’s alright. He’s sleeping just down the hall.”

“May I see him?” It’s selfish, but her mind won’t quiet until she’s proven to herself completely that it was only a dream, that she hasn’t failed yet again.

Regis hesitates, but after a moment he gently settles her back on the ground and leads her by the hand. “Of course. We’ll have to be careful, but of course. He’s...very sick and needs his rest.”

Luna nods and follows after him. Guilt curls in her chest at the implication of Noct’s worsening condition, and it settles heavy in her gut when Regis gently opens the door and she sees Noctis for almost the first time since she’d come to live in the Citadel.

He’d been on bedrest since they’d returned, struggling with the fall of Tenebrae and the Empire’s attack in his own way, and she hadn’t thought about what this truly meant until the moment she stands at the foot of the bed and _sees_ him.

He’s pale and clammy with sweat, his dark, dark hair clings to his forehead. His eyebrows are drawn together and his breath comes out in sharp pants as if he’s caught up in a nightmare of his own. Even so, he’s alarmingly still. The small blue charm that glitters on the pillow next to his head isn’t disturbed at all.  

Regis had told her to be careful not to wake him, but she doesn’t think she _can._ He seems as trapped as she had felt, lost in a nightmare with no hope of escape.

_You couldn’t save them,_ the voice from her own nightmare taunts. _They protected you, and you couldn’t save any of them._

_You couldn’t save them._

_You couldn’t save them._

_The hopes of all those lost in Tenebrae go with you now._

_Your duty brought you comfort once._

She breathes in a shaky breath, feeling the cold air rush around her.

_You need only call and I shall be there._

“Gentiana,” she says, quiet but firm.

She hears Regis gasp behind her as Gentiana steps forward as if from nowhere. Gentiana gives him an amused nod of acknowledgement then goes unbidden to Noctis’ side, laying a cool hand on his forehead. The prince stiffens at the touch but relaxes as the cold brings him the smallest of comfort. After a moment, it looks like he really is just resting.

“I’m ready,” Luna says, loud enough that both Gentiana and Regis can hear, but still not so loud that she risks waking Noctis. “I’m ready to take up my duty as Oracle. I will finish what my mother started and see the Chosen King healed of all wounds.”

Regis looks surprised, hopeful and guilty all at once as his eyes start to water, so Luna returns to his side, takes his hand again just as he’d taken hers that day, when he’d reached out and saved her from her falling homeland. A look to Gentiana finds her smiling, knowing and gentle.

“But not tonight,” she murmurs. “Tonight I-”

In spite of everything, the memory of the nightmare still chokes her. She’s not sure how easily rest will find her tonight. As if sensing her anxiety, Regis squeezes at her hand.

“Would you like for me to tell you another story?” he says, smiling softly even though his voice cracks around the words.

Luna smiles, grateful, and nods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this time the bedtime story is about ol’ pawpaw cid (first one was about cor in case u couldn’t tell. also i know cor doesn’t like being called the immortal but it is kind of an unironic badge of honor for everyone else.) ~~also, luna’s nightmare isn’t completely fake just so u kno hueheuhue~~
> 
> anyways, the next chapter will feature lil noctis n the babby!bros (sans prompto who will not be prominently featured in part 1 for various reasons) and luna learning to be oracle, but overall, this story will see luna being less oracle-y than canon luna
> 
> another thing that y’all might think is important: i know i have only ever written promptis before, but i’m not super committed to them in this fic and i’m probably not even going to pair them as anything other than cool friends here b/c it is luna-centric, i recognize my potential bias towards their relationship (platonic or romantic) and i don’t want to risk sidelining luna’s narrative and character growth in any way. generally, this applies to all potential pairings so this fic will probably stay gen throughout unless a particular pairing feels right as im writing
> 
> anyway, that’s all! let me know how you liked this story so far in the comments or give me a [lil yell on tumblr](http://brosura.tumblr.com/)!


	2. i know you're bleeding, but you'll be ok

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao woops on the >month long delay
> 
> ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿
> 
> enjoy

Noctis wakes the next morning well enough to leave his room for breakfast.

He’s still weak - he’s seated in a wheelchair and pushed in by his father - but he doesn’t seem as pale as he did late last night, and it’s hard to think of him as sickly when he lights up with a mixture of relief and joy upon seeing both her and Gentiana.

“Gentiana!” he says, voice small and weak, but excited nonetheless. He looks between Gentiana and Luna with hope and disbelief. “You’re ok!”

“You remember what I told you?” Gentiana says, voice cool and tinged with amusement. “I am a messenger, Young King. You will find I am quite difficult to lose.”

“Um, is-?” he cuts himself off, looking to his father. Regis only gives him a sad smile.

Luna can guess what he is trying to ask. He wants to hope, like she wants to hope, that if Gentiana survived the fall of Tenebrae, then Luna can’t be alone. That there must be others.

“There are things even a messenger cannot know,” Gentiana responds, enigmatic. In spite of it all, Luna catches herself hoping. “Now, the young must build up their strength.”

“Indeed. Now, let’s see if you can’t eat a bit more today,” Regis says. He pushes Noct’s wheelchair into a spot at table.

“Good morning, Noctis,” Lunafreya greets as Noctis settles in across from her. “I’m happy to see you awake.”

Noctis gives her a small smile back, flushing lightly. “Morning, Luna. H-happy to see you, too.”

He looks healthier as they settle into light conversation for the beginning of breakfast. Noctis’ hands shake slightly as he eats, but his expression is bright and curious as it was when Luna first told him of the Astrals and the prophecy what feels like a lifetime ago. It’s such a contrast from the boy she had seen last night, pale and sickly in the moonlight, caught in the throes of a nightmare.

Noctis laughs at something his father says, bashful and quiet, and Luna sees Regis relax visibly from across the table. He still hasn’t said a thing to Noctis about what Luna told him the night before. _Even now, he’s still giving her time to choose._

The spoonful of porridge she’d been eating sits heavy in her mouth. She swallows, takes a breath and remembers her promise.

“Noctis,” she says. Her voice sounds foreign to her. Noctis perks up at his name, blinking attentively. “I would like to begin my training as the Oracle by finishing your treatment. Would that be alright?”

Noctis’ expression changes so abruptly that it’s startling. He only takes in a quiet breath and suddenly all the ways he was open and bright are now closed and somber. His eyes lower to the table, brows drawn together. Etched in there is a needless guilt, a deep sorrow, too old for the softness of his face.

“I’m ok, Luna,” he says, finally. “I’ll be ok if I just rest. I’m feeling better. You _don’t have to.”_

He meets her eyes, then, expression serious, sorrowful and _familiar._

He takes so much after his father.

In spite of everything, Luna finds herself smiling.

“I wasn’t clear,” she says. “I _want_ to begin my training as the Oracle. May I use you as practice?”

Noctis blinks at her, surprised. “Um, practice?”

“The duty of the Oracle is to heal those afflicted by the Scourge. I do not know yet how to use my magic, so there may be a… _risk._ But even so, I wish to intervene before your wound festers and grows. I do not ask out of obligation, but out of understanding.” Luna gives him a sad smile. “I know what it’s like to find that rest eludes you. If I can help, then I wish to. I _want_ to.”

“O-oh,” Noctis mumbles. He still has that serious look on his face, but it’s less guilty, less sad. “If you’re sure. If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” she reassures him.

It doesn’t seem to help much, but Regis chooses that moment to cut in.

“Enough of that for now,” he says, voice soft. “Why don’t we finish with breakfast first and if you feel better, you can show Lunafreya the pond in the gardens afterwards.”

“Ok,” Noctis says, meekly, but some of the excitement from earlier brightens the gloom on his somber face. “Luna, have you ever fished before?” 

* * *

She wasn’t expecting to master her mother’s magic from the start, but she hadn’t expected it to be _this_ difficult. Especially since she’s used the magic of the Oracle before, she’s _certain._

But then again, her only memories are from early childhood, sitting in her mother’s lap. _Her hands are cupped within her mother’s and she giggles with delight as they glow with a bright, clear light. It’s warm and soothing, gathered within her tiny palms. Her mother laughs warmly as Ravus watches them with pride and wonder._

Thinking back, she might not have made that light at all. It might have been a mother’s game, meant to inspire confidence in her at an early age. But she can’t remember much else other than the feelings and the vague images. She can barely remember the sound of her mother’s voice.

“Lunafreya?” she hears Regis say, tone tinged with alarm, and realizes that there are tears - she can’t tell if they’re from that vivid memory or simple frustration - gathering at the edges of her eyes.

He’s seated by Noctis, who has fallen asleep after taking a meager lunch of soup and bread. Noctis, who is exhausted so quickly by such little things, his body weakening by the day. Luna only wishes she could heal him faster.

She rubs at her eyes before the tears can spill properly. “I’m alright. It’s just that this is… more difficult than I thought it would be.”

“I never expected this process to come quickly, Lunafreya,” Regis is not unkind when he says it, his tone is gentle, but Luna flinches anyway.

Even if _he’s_ not disappointed in her, she can feel her own disappointment settle heavy in her chest.

“I’m sorry,” she all but whispers.

“Oh, Lunafreya.” He sounds broken and she feels him sit down next to her, taking a small hand in his. _“Please_ understand, you have nothing to apologize for. This isn’t something you should have been burdened with so young. I should be the one apologizing for putting you in this situation. You are welcome to stop anytime you wish.”

“No, I will see this done,” she says quickly, certainly. She’s confident in at least that much. “I will see him healed.”

Gentiana, who had been watching up until this point after giving Luna a brief lecture on meditating on the Oracle’s magic, chooses this moment to walk to her side. She presses a cold hand to Luna’s forehead and it’s only then that Lunafreya realizes how exhausted she feels. A glance to the window and she sees that the sun is setting. It had been bright the last time she had bothered checking.

“Whatever you may wish, it is to the benefit of none if the Oracle falls ill,” Gentiana says. “Using the magic of your lineage is costly, even if you cannot see its effects. We shall rest until tomorrow. I will stay with him in your stead.”

Luna frowns, even though she can’t imagine continuing with how suddenly drained she feels.

“Why don’t we see what’s for dinner?” Regis offers. “Noctis will be fine for the night.”

Lunafreya nods and takes his hand, letting him lead her back towards the dining hall along a route that’s beginning to become more familiar. But there’s a boy there, lingering behind a pillar near the end of the hall. She’s never seen him before. Regis seems to recognize him, though.

“Ah, Ignis,” he greets, tone warm and familiar.

Despite this, the boy - Ignis - looks nervous as he emerges from behind the pillar. He’s around her age, though probably younger since he’s a fair bit shorter than her, blinking anxiously behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses.

“Your Majesty,” Ignis murmurs, bowing deeply with the awkwardness of a child. His glasses nearly fall off from the action and he has to shoot an arm up to keep them on his face.

“Are you here to visit Noctis?” Regis asks, smile saddening when the boy straightens and gives a quick nod. “I’m afraid he’s resting.”

“That’s alright,” he says, a bit louder, and Luna can hear the _distinct_ familiarity of his accent. He pulls a small notebook from under his arm, presenting it for inspection. “May I leave him the notes from his tutor? I won’t make a sound.”

“Of course.” Regis gives him one more warm smile and Ignis seems to take to this one, relaxing ever so slightly.

He bows again, this one more natural, and says a quiet thank you as he clutches the book closer and moves back and out of their way.

Luna is curious to say the least, but she can’t say if his soft accent was something she imagined or not, so she speaks up before Regis can lead her away. “You’ll find he’s not alone. The woman there is my...guardian. Her name is Gentiana, and you needn’t fret.”

Ignis seems surprised by her accent as well, but he says nothing of it. Merely gives her a half-bow, half-nod and a muttered thanks before leaving them in the direction of Noct’s room. She frowns as he disappears around the corner, unsatisfied. Regis seems to notice her frustration, though, since he lets out a quiet laugh.

“That boy is Ignis Scientia,” he explains. “He’s a friend of Noctis and more recently, a supplier of such contraband material as comic books and sweets from the kitchen. I suspect he’s on his way to make a delivery now, though we’ll have to ask Gentiana to be sure.” He gives her a wink and she finds herself smiling in response as his own smile becomes conspiratorial. “You know, he’s a very studious boy. I find that he often frequents the library in his spare time, one might say he’s almost a permanent fixture. Shall I show you where it is, and perhaps you can visit when you see fit?”

She’s eager at the prospect of the library alone. Her fondest memories find her in either the sun-bathed fields of Sylleblossoms playing with Ravus or in the dusty libraries of Fenestala Manor. The memories where she is warm and comfortable in the company of her tutors or her mother, reading stories about the Kings and Oracles and their trials and deeds, so grandiose they might as well exist in legend only.

She’ll never see the fields of Sylleblossoms again, but maybe she can find that comfort in the library.

So she nods, smiling. “I’d like that very much.”  

* * *

The library of Lucis, as with many things in Insomnia, is elegant and cold in it’s dark marble and high windows.

It is old, though it smells more of cold stone and aged parchment than the old wood of the library at Fenestala Manor. The shelves stretch to the ceiling and she sees several clerks milling about, some halfway up tall ladders, all dressed in a sleek black. Long desks with matching seats of luxuriously polished wood make up the majority of the floor. The people sitting in irregular spaces at them to study seem older, but not quite so old as her mother and Regis. With a pang in her heart, she realizes that they’re about the same age as Ravus.

Before she can rest too heavily on this thought, an old clerk with thick glasses catches her attention with a gentle, “Miss?”

“Ah, good afternoon,” Luna starts, awkward.

The first step into a library is always the most daunting, before the aisles and corners become familiar, before the staff becomes friendly faces. Now it’s even more so, since she _did_ come here for almost the sole purpose of finding Ignis, who likely didn’t even know her name. She decides it’s better than to admit to that, but luckily for her, the clerk seems to decide for her.

“I suppose you’re looking for the tutor, girlie,” she says, a warm, indulgent smile on her face. “She’s with a student in the north reading room, but I don’t think she’ll much mind if you wait outside.”

“O-of course,” Luna says, giving her a small smile back. “And, ah, where would that be?”

The north reading room is across the library, tucked behind a row of shelves, so at the very least she doesn’t have to face the librarian with her lie so immediately. She wanders there freely, passing between the shelves where there are the fewest people and running careful fingers along the rims of the ancient books there. She passes the Cosmogeny and briefly considers checking it out to read with Noct after their next healing session, then she remembers that her own copy is likely nothing but ash now and brings herself to the reading room immediately, if only for the distraction.

Before she can really think about what she is doing, she opens the door, expecting to find a smaller collection on the other side. But it’s much smaller than she anticipated. So small, in fact, that there are only two people - an older woman and, well, Ignis - in the room, who both look up from what seems to be schoolwork at the sound of the door.

She blinks between the two of them, feeling a flush creep up her neck at the flash of mild annoyance on the woman’s face.

And Ignis blinks back at her, expression curious and surprised.

Suddenly, she feels very silly.

“E-excuse me,” she mumbles, already closing the door.

“W-wait!” Ignis gives a startled yelp and she pauses. Once he seems satisfied she’s not leaving, he gives an awkward bow to his tutor and hastily collects his notes. “A-apologies, ma’am. I forgot I had prior engagements.”

“Not a problem, Ignis,” the woman says, sounding more amused than anything. She leans back in her seat and twirls a pen. “I trust you to complete the lesson on your own, industrious mind that you are.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“And you. Girl.” The woman turns her brown eyes to Luna. It’s a bit startling to be addressed so informally, but it’s not something offensive to her by any means, so she merely tilts her head in response. The woman’s face breaks into a sly smile, accentuating her deep laugh lines. “You’re about schooling age. When this boy here finally realizes he’s been conned - hiring a tutor _decades_ older than twice his age but half his intelligence - and I’m in need of work, _do_ consider commissioning old Alexandria here.”   

“You give me too much credit, ma’am,” Ignis says. “I would say you’re more than my equal in intelligence, and I can only hope to match you in wit some day.”

“I dare say you may already have me matched. Can’t tell if I should be flattered or insulted, with something like that.”

“Flattered, for now, ma’am.” Ignis smiles something strangely shy for how familiar he’s acting with his tutor.

“Very well,” the woman - Alexandria - says, amused. She turns back to Luna. “Still, can’t hurt to get more work. _You_ consider my offer, girl.”

“I will,” Luna says with a small laugh.

“Now then, Ignis. Play nice with your little... match or your uncle will see me hanged.”

Ignis flushes then, muttering an affirmative, but Luna doesn’t realize what she means until she and Ignis are sitting in a small study.

“I apologize for Alexandria, Lady Lunafreya,” Ignis says as he prepares them both tea in a delicate porcelain pot. There is a flush on his face just as delicate as he continues, “She seems to have it in her head that anyone close to my age sent my way is a marriage match from my uncle. I think it may be a joke of hers, that she thinks I’m unable to make friends, but regardless it was very rude of her to address you as such. I apologize for any discomfort that might have caused you.”

“It’s alright, I thought it was quite amusing. She seems a kind woman with a sharp wit,” Luna smiles and it seems to comfort him.

He relaxes ever so slightly, making a small noise of affirmation. A stretch of silence follows until Luna feels comfortable voicing her curiosity, the question she’d had in her head from the moment Ignis’ tutor called her “girl.”

“Does she… not know who I am?”

It’s not meant to sound egotistical - the reality of her experience has always been that her family found little anonymity wherever they went - but she flinches anyway. If Ignis notices, he doesn’t seem to care.

Instead, he seems more uncomfortable. He hesitates as he pours their tea.

“Ah, that is,” he says, frowning. It’s a familiar look. She knows the look of someone carefully choosing their words. “King Regis has.. kept your identity a secret. For your safety! Only a few noble houses and those who work at the palace know.”

She frowns at this new information. She’s not upset with Regis for keeping it from her, but she wonders why he thought it was important to keep her a secret at all. She was still too young to understand much of the politics that she would hear during her mother’s meetings, but it seemed more advantageous for her existence to be known, for her status to give the people hope.

Could she truly be in such danger that she _must_ be hidden by necessity?

It is just troubling enough for her to forget her company, until Ignis stutters, “I, um, I’d only found out from Noctis the other day. I apologize for my rudeness when addressing you at that time, Lady Lunafreya.”

His hands shake a little as he pours them both tea.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” she reassures as best she can. “And please, just Luna is fine.”

“Of course,” Ignis says, but he seems loathe to say her name so casually. “How do you take your tea?”

“I can make it myself.” She makes sure to smile, but Ignis still seems nervous as he hands her the delicate porcelain cup. “Thank you again, it was very kind of you to-”

She pauses when the scent of it hits her. And it truly _hits_ her, hard and all at once.

_It’s a light, floral scent, the smell of a black tea with dried Sylleblossoms. It took her years of stubborn practice drinking it, spurred on by Ravus’ teasing to get used to the bitterness, but she was so happy when she could finally drink the tea along with her mother and Ravus during her afternoon breaks._

_Her mother was always busy, but she tried her hardest to save her afternoons for tea with the two of them._

The scent is so familiar it’s _painful_ , and she tries and fails to keep her voice from cracking when she asks, “This tea, where did you-?”

“I’m- My mother was Tenebraean, I thought you’d guessed,” he explains, eyes wide with panic. “She used to make this for me. I- _Apologies,_ milady. I only thought it might- I only wished to bring you comfort.”

“No, _please_ don’t apologize.” She swipes the back of her hand across her eyes before any tears can fall. She doesn’t need to distress Ignis any further. “Please don’t apologize. It _is_ a comfort, more than you can imagine. _Thank you,_ Ignis.”

“O-of course,” he stutters, wide eyes flicking down to his own cup of tea.

“D-do you break for tea often?” she asks. Her voice is still strained with emotion, but she’s desperate to change the subject. She wants Ignis to be her _friend._ She doesn’t want to lose that before she’s even had the chance.

“I do,” Ignis answers. He still seems uncertain, but he’s meeting her eyes now, at least. “It’s a habit, really. My studies begin so early, I get rather cranky if I don’t get the chance to drink even a little during the day.”

“I was the same,” she laughs weakly. It sounds a little too much like a sob. “Though I have little reason to be tired these days. I can wake up when I wish, and I still haven’t asked if I need to be tutored. It’s quite different here in Lucis,” she trails off before she can stop herself. “Ah, but, if it’s not too much, could we take tea like this again? Only when you feel you’re able.”

“Of course, Lad- Luna,” he says, a tentative smile on his face. “I’d be happy to. And I know you’re quite busy with Noct, but this office was given to me to be my study. You’re more than welcome to read in here, I know the library can be overwhelming at times.

“A-and if you’re not feeling too tired, I could give you one of my old lesson plans from my tutor. You can choose what you’d like to learn and I’d be happy to help! U-until you’ve decided on your own tutor, of course...”

She smiles. Her eyes are still watering, her heart is still heavy, but for the first time there’s something else. A giddiness, an excitement she hadn’t experienced since before all this, when she was so pleased to hear that she would be meeting the Lucian prince and his envoy. Something that cut through the pain of the memories. Something like hope.

“That sounds perfect.”  

* * *

“I hear from Noctis that you’ve found a friend in Ignis,” Regis says over dinner the next night.

He has been busier lately, spending less and less time with her during Gentiana’s lessons. He has been looking wearier and wearier as well, though Noctis has been steadily improving with each lesson.

Still, whatever else is happening, he tries his best to see her at least once per day, usually during meals.

“Yes,” she says, smiling. He’s a strangely studious boy, but they’d scheduled another time for tea within the week. “I have an appointment with him soon. For tea!”

“An appointment?” Regis laughs. “My, he’s such a formal boy. But I’m happy to see that you two are getting along.”  

And she’s happy, too, regardless of how awkward their start was. She frowns at the reminder of what Ignis had told her over their first cup of tea, however. How the old tutor hadn’t recognized her, how Regis had been keeping her a secret.  

“Is it-” she starts, trying to phrase her curiosity in a way that doesn’t implicate Ignis. He seemed so concerned that he’d disclosed something he shouldn’t have. “Do the people know that I’m alive?”

She has her answer as Regis’ face drops ever so slightly. He lets out a deep sigh, and he looks so _old,_ suddenly. So much wearier.

“They do not,” he finally says, tone laden with guilt. “I’ve hidden your survival, to protect you from both the Empire’s spies and the scrutiny of the public. I’d thought you should have some privacy, some time for yourself, after everything. If only to… _adjust_ to your new life.”

She nods. Something about hiding still feels wrong to her, she feels like she could do so much more if her people - however many of them were left - knew she lived.

But she also knows that becoming the Oracle meant becoming a spectacle, and the girl that had been pulled from the burning ruins of Tenebrae wasn’t ready for that. She’s still not completely ready, almost three months later. Not yet. Noctis isn’t walking yet.

So gratitude rushes through her for all that Regis has done for her, in spite of how little she has helped him. She thanks him aloud, since that’s all she can do to repay him.

But he seems more troubled by her thanks, frown deepening, and Luna finds the lingering grief that always sits heavy on her chest these days crawling up, wrapping around her throat. She doesn’t know why, but she feels like she’s about to lose him.

“You shouldn’t thank me. Hiding your survival was a selfish decision of mine, something I did so that _I_ might feel some solace, as well.”

She fights through the anxiety to ask, “What do you mean?”

He has that familiar guilt in his eyes when he looks at her, the look he gets when he’s about to apologize for something that wasn’t his fault. His soft laugh is full of regret. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but perhaps it was selfish of me to try to hide these things from you. They do concern you, after all. You and Noctis both.

“Part of the reason I have hidden you is that I am leaving to support the front lines soon.” Luna feels like she’s choking. She’s drowning all over again. “I know it is asking much of you, when you must want to comfort your people and move forward with your duty as Oracle, but I ask that while I am gone, you keep yourself hidden. It’s a selfish request, but it would bring me comfort to know that you still know the relative safety of obscurity while I’m not here to help protect you.”

But to Luna, so little of that matters. She can’t bring herself to think of being the Oracle when she’s about to _lose_ someone else. Perhaps it’s foolish of her, perhaps she should have more faith in Regis, but that dream echoes in her head.

_You couldn’t save them._

“Why do you have to go?”

She sounds so spoiled, but she can’t bring herself to care. If she had said what she truly wanted to say, after all, it would have come out as _‘Don’t go.’_

But Regis still looks broken as he moves to her side. He doesn’t bring a chair with him, kneeling instead at her side to take one of her hands in his.

“Oh, Lunafreya,” he says. “I would stay if I could, but the Empire pushes further into Lucis with each day. The people on the front lines are losing heart, they must see that their King stands with them. Believe me when I say that I wouldn’t leave you and Noctis if I had any other choice.”

She nods. She knows this, knows she’s just being selfish. But she can’t stop repeating _‘Don’t go’_ in her head. Can’t stop replaying her nightmare.

As if reading her mind, Regis asks, tentatively, “Luna, tell me, are you still having nightmares?”

“Not as many,” she answers quietly.

It’s not the whole truth. Yes, the nightmares have mostly stopped since that night, though the images of that terrible omen still linger at the edges of her consciousness. But while her nights are filled with mostly memories now, replayed moments of a childhood that seems ages away now, she still finds that true rest eludes her. It’s hard to wake up knowing that everyone in her dreams is cold and dead, and so far away she can’t even know if they’ve found peace.

And she can’t burden Regis with that knowledge, not when she’s already been so selfish as to burden him with the guilt of knowing how much she wanted him to stay.

But Regis seems to sense her lie and lets out that familiar, tired sigh.

He squeezes her hand gently as he continues, “Lunafreya, if something is troubling you, I would like it if you told me. Your mother and I were close friends, and while I would never ask you to replace your memory of her, please know I will do my best to raise you in her stead. Even though I must go, now, I’ll do _everything_ in my power to return to you and Noctis both. I _promise_ you that.”

Luna knows he can’t possibly promise that, knows that even he can’t know everything. Her mother had been the Oracle, loved by the Astrals, and yet that love hadn’t stopped her from being killed by the Empire.

But she’ll try to trust him. He doesn’t deserve to feel the guilt of seeing her scars any longer. Part of becoming the Oracle means learning to have faith, and this time she will have to put her faith in men rather than the Astrals.

She nods, swiping away tears before they can fall and squeezing Regis’ hand back.

“Nothing troubles me,” she answers his expectant look. She frowns at the apparent lie in her words. “I will miss you, but nothing troubles me in my sleep. I merely find it hard to rest, perhaps because I spend much of the day idle.”

“Is there anything I can do for you in that regard?” Regis stands. “I can arrange for a tutor, perhaps? To keep your mind busy.”

“I would like that.” She smiles, remembering the woman in the library who had called her ‘Girl.’ “I have someone in mind, if it’s not too much.”

“Of course not,” he reassures, voice gentle. “I’ll be sure to arrange lessons for you before I leave, but do be sure not to overwork yourself.” He gives her a mischievous grin. “Or I’ll have Gentiana tattle on you, you know how readily she’ll _divulge your secrets.”_

His teasing, along with the memory of Gentiana easily offering up Noctis’ hidden comic books to Noct’s betrayed surprise, is enough to bring a real smile to her face. It gives her the courage to ask, “When do you leave?”

“At the end of the month,” he says with a sad smile. Luna feels something tighten in her chest. “I couldn’t miss your birthday after all.” 

* * *

It’s hard to feel much joy on her birthday, with how obviously everyone in the Citadel is preparing for the King’s departure.

She’s still a secret from the public - she’ll stay that way until she ascends to her role as Oracle - so all the buzz she can hear in bits and pieces is about the King’s tour of the outskirts. The guards are changing shifts and debriefing, the staff is thinning out and rescheduling. It’s a fairly large production, and it’s all people want to talk about.

“Oh, the little Prince will be so sad,” she hears one of the cleaning staff whisper to another as she walks the corridors of the Citadel. “He’s so attached to his father, you know-”

She quickly rounds the corner before she can reflect on her own feelings.

She has to make it to her first lesson after all, with Miss Alexandria. She supposes most children would find it upsetting to have to study on their birthday, but she’s more than happy for the distraction until her dinner with Regis and Noctis.

When she enters the north reading room - she’s familiar with it by now, after that embarrassing first experience - she sees old Alexandria sitting where she’d been all those weeks ago.

“Didn’t think you’d taken me seriously,” she says, giving Luna a look of disbelief and exhaustion. “Didn’t know you were the Oracle, either. You should have told me something, girl, I had a right heart attack when the King came asking for me.”

“And yet you still call me girl,” Luna says playfully.

“After all the things I went through to be cleared to teach you, all the poking and prodding and _signing,_ I think the privilege of addressing you informally is a privilege I’ve _well_ -earned,” she grumbles.

Luna laughs, relieved. She’d been the most worried about that, after all. She’d enjoyed her short time with Alexandria for the ease and lack of concern for her rank, something she hadn’t enjoyed even in Fenestala Manor, and she’d been worried about the consequences of imposing herself on the tutor unannounced.

“Now then, girl,” Alexandria says, that sly smile teasing out her laugh lines. “It’s time for your lesson.”

Luna seats herself next to Alexandria with excitement, in spite of everything. Ignis had given her a small, leather bound notebook as a preemptive gift for her birthday and this would be her first chance to use it. She frowns, though, when she recognizes the titles of the textbook.

“I’ve learned Tenebraean History,” she says. “Through the Modern Era.”

“You have,” Alexandria smirks. “Though I’ve found that the history that’s taught closest to the source is the least reliable. The men who get to write things down can write whatever they want, after all, and countries don’t look hard for their own mistakes.

“Though, since you’ve already learned your history, we can skip the overview. You’ll start by reading primary accounts on major historical events, starting with the founding of the seat of the Oracle. Once you’ve read them, I want you to report to me the circumstances leading to and all outcomes of each of these events, from all perspectives. Periodically, I will test your knowledge of the general events and their place relative to each other on a timeline.

“This is how I will conduct my class. Is this acceptable, little princess?”

The look Alexandria gives her is full of challenge, and Luna finds herself rising to it. “Will I be taught Lucian history this way as well? That seems difficult, so close to the source.”

Alexandria’s smirk widens. “Why, that’s the challenge we face, isn’t it? To answer you, though, yes. I imagine that since you’re the Oracle, you’ll be politicking soon enough. Best to ground you in history and critical thinking before that happens. Once I’m confident in you, we’ll move on to politics, economics and law. You seem a sharp thing, so don’t disappoint me now, girl.”

“I’ll do my best,” Luna says, and she means it.

“Very well, let us begin.”  

* * *

The mood through dinner is tainted by an undercurrent of anxiety and gloom, despite the veritable feast they’re served.

But Regis and Noctis smile and sing as Luna blows out the candles on a beautifully decorated cake that tastes nothing like anything she’d eaten in Tenebrae. She feels the familiar surge of joy as wrapped presents are given for her to open, feels real gratitude as she thanks Regis and Noctis for the books and clothes, but underneath it all she feels the anxiety radiating off everyone in the room.

Regis leaves tomorrow, after all, and there’s a morbid finality to the end of their dinner. It could very well be their last time together like this.

Luna finds that sleep eludes her that night. She’s still awake when Regis comes by in full royal attire and leads her to the steps where she and Noctis are to bid him farewell. He gives them one last crushing hug before he descends.

“I love the two of you more than anything,” he says as he holds them, voice full of emotion. “Take care of each other. I’ll be back before you know it.”

His embrace almost hurts, but she doesn’t want him to let go. She doesn’t want him to leave. She hears the traitorous, selfish thought in her head again and again. _Don’t go._

But she says nothing as he leaves them. She watches the dim light of the dawn brighten the city and illuminate the sleek black car that drives away as an attendant helps Noctis off his crutches and wheels him away.

She studies the rest of the day, she doesn’t want to think about being the Oracle for now. Ignis receives her in his office with a silent understanding. The lessons keep her occupied at least - the hope of meeting Alexandria’s expectations is a strong motivator - until it’s too late and she’s lying awake with her thoughts again.

She considers calling Gentiana, for any distraction, any comfort.

She goes to Noctis instead, Cosmogeny tucked under her arm. She’d gotten the courage to check it out of the library after her first lesson in the library.

She knocks on his door before she can stop herself, softly, in case she’s wrong and he’s sleeping more soundly than she is. The timid _‘who is it?’_ is confirmation enough, however, and he gives her shaky permission to enter when she identifies herself.

“Hi Luna,” he says, voice deceptively cheerful. The puffy rims of his eyes betray him, however, despite how desperately he seems to have scrubbed the tears away before she’d come in.

“I can’t sleep,” she admits and just like that, Noctis drops his cheerful front.

“M-me either,” he replies, voice quiet and eyes downcast.

Luna moves to sit beside him silently, scoots herself close with the Cosmogeny in her lap, and he curls into her warmth the second their sides touch. They sit together in silence like this for a long moment, taking in the miniscule physical comfort of huddling together.

“Do you think he’s going to be ok?” Noctis finally asks, but he sounds like he has his answer.

And she can’t lie to him any more than she can lie to herself. They both know what it’s like, after all, to lose everything all at once. They know that anything can go wrong at any time. They’ve seen just that, they’ve watched their worlds burn down before their eyes.  

Lunafreya desperately wants to have faith, but it’s hard now that she’s so tired and yet sleep somehow eludes her.

So she answers, “I don’t know.”

“I miss him,” Noctis sighs.

“I miss him, too.”

They lapse into silence again, the Cosmogeny in Luna’s lap all but forgotten.

Maybe one day they’ll have a better answer, a better way to cope with the persistent feelings of fear and loss.

Maybe one day when Luna can focus on her training as the Oracle, she’ll have that answer.

Maybe one day Luna, the Oracle, can fulfill her promise to Noctis, the Chosen King, and guide him with wisdom even through times like these.

Maybe one day.

But for now, they’re just two children who can’t sleep. They're just two children who miss their father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i'm gonna apologize in advance for any folks coming in hoping this _might_ turn into noct/luna since i am WEAK to childhood friendships but the more i write, the better they feel as cool siblings in this...so yeahhhh i'mmmmm sorrry fam lmaooo. that being said, i'll keep my promise and not sideline luna for any other pairs! 
> 
> also if ur like feelin sad about the shitty cards luna keeps getting dealt jus u wait fam part 2 of this whole business is the fun and wacky slice of life part
> 
> one more thing, the OC in this chapter is kind of a one shot and was mainly added to give luna crash course intro to one of the major themes of this fic which is that the things she was taught as true may not be the entirety of the truth ~~even, say, the prophecy~~ ;3c
> 
> anyway, thanks for the read and leave me a comment or give me a [lil yell](http://brosura.tumblr.com/ask) on my [tumblr](http://brosura.tumblr.com/).
> 
> next chapter! baby amicitias!


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